


pale october twlight

by Nervouslaughter508



Category: The School for Good and Evil - Soman Chainani
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drabble Collection, Eventual Romance, Fix-It of Sorts, Multi, in which I attempt to empathize more on the things that shouldn't have been ignored in the series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:22:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 12,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26858902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nervouslaughter508/pseuds/Nervouslaughter508
Summary: a collection of sgetober oneshots from my tumblr. various themes, size, amounts of angst, and characters.prompts from snail_jam.sge on instagramtitle from october twilight by frankie carle
Relationships: Agatha/Hester (The School for Good and Evil), Agatha/Tedros (The School for Good and Evil), Beatrix/Reena (The School for Good and Evil), Chaddick/Nicholas (The School for Good and Evil), Dot & Sophie (The School for Good and Evil), Hort/Ravan (The School for Good and Evil), Sophie & Agatha (The School for Good and Evil)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 45





	1. sgetober day four: the last ever after

Most days, Agatha can still feel the daunting hot presence on the back of her neck of the sword she sees strapped to her husbands side. And sometimes, she thinks he can too. 

It’s not his fathers sword anymore, and it’s not a gift from the Lady of The Lake. It’s the evil shine in Sophie’s nightmares eyes as it’s held over their necks. Sophie doesn’t like the sword anymore, if she ever did, and when they meet matching eyes above the belt, she can’t help to agree. She doesn’t know how Tedros copes with it. She doesn’t know how any of them cope with it. 

When the candles go out and the ringing of the metal on stone is still in her ears, she wonders if they ever will. 


	2. sgetober day five: evers

the evers don’t win anymore, not in the sense that matters, anyways.

sure, the villain has fallen, the princess is safe and the kingdom is stable, but was it really worth it when their glazed over eyes are staring at you, in your victory?

no, it's not.

the heroes don't win, not anymore. heroes, evers, they're just so damned good. there's not a village, a kingdom, a lost heir, or an evil witch that they just can't leave alone. they all have the same staggering sense of do good and right and wrong, and sometimes, just sometimes,

that's the villain in itself.

the good deeds are just the title, there’s nothing else behind them. good deeds aren’t a good judge of character. especially when your most loyal sidekick is the one who pays the cost of your glory.

the evers don’t win anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :((( they all deserve hugs 
> 
> thank you for reading! i promise, they're not all gonna be this angsty and short. i'd love to hear about what you guys think


	3. sgetober day six: lunchtime with sophie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which maybe sophie's good deeds have an expected result.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to clarify! this chapter is from dots pov. she has a lot of internalized inferiority and shame about how she looks.   
> her very small arc is like agatha's, pretty much. the ending is happy, but this is just a warning!! i did NOT like the way soman's satire interpreted dot and the awwp evergirls.

Hester and Anadil stew over textbooks and letters and failed results, but Dot daydreams and dances behind in her own head. 

Sophie is talking about extensions, do’s and don’ts, and Dot is rapt, eying her own in the bottom of the rusty spoon. Her eyelashes, like her hair, are rather short. 

“Dot, tell me you’re not actually paying attention to this garbage.” Hester snaps, looking over her book. 

“Mona and Archane are listening!” Dot protests, enviously eyeing the two girls applying mascara onto each other. 

“They’re not part of the coven,” Hester responds. Anadil mutters a thank goodness.

Dot pouts. “It’s not fair, how come they get to take pride in how they look when I have to be... reduced?” 

Hester snorts, no longer paying Dot any attention. Anadil answers. “Dot, you’re a Never. Sophie’s just trying to show Prince Dipface Nevers aren’t that bad, when really, we are.” 

Dot fumes. Easy for them to say. Neither of them are ugly, even if Hester’s hair could use some combing, and Anadil’s scowling nature does tend to scare people away. Even the other Nevers aren’t hopeless! Archane has a perfect symmetrical face, and Mona has sharp, nice cheekbones and smooth long hair. Ravan is fit, with wide, expressive eyes. Vex has nice ears and blond hair she wishes she had. 

Dot can find beauty in them, so why can’t she find it in herself? 

* * *

  
  


Room 66 is filled with lively humming and a sweet perfume when Dot pokes her head in. Hester and Anadil are studying in the common room. Sometimes Dot wishes she could be like them, dedicated and eager to learn. Daddy would probably like them. Dot just can’t pay attention to things for long periods of time. 

She shuts the door behind her, watching Sophie through the back of the jeweled mirror. She’s rubbing lotion on her skin, her flawless skin. Dot miserably plunks herself on her mattress. Why can’t she be pretty like Sophie? She’s aware that she’s fat, she’s heard enough of that from Daddy and Hester’s stray comments, but that doesn’t mean she’s ugly, right? 

  
  


“Sophie, do you think you could help me with mascara? Like what you were talking about during today's lunch?” Dot rushes out, before her persistent cowardice can get in the way. 

Sophie pauses, her back to Dot. Dot flusters. “You don’t have to!”

Sophie turns to her, surprised. “Well, I suppose I could make time. Here, sit here.” 

Dot gapes, then rushes to sit across from Sophie on the hard ground. “Thank you!”

“No problem.” Sophie says absently, picking up a minuscule brush and a jar of black ink. It must be homemade. Dot fidgets under Sophie’s scrutinizing gaze. 

Dot expects them to sit in silence, but to her surprise, Sophie starts talking. 

“Hmm. You have short lashes, but they're very curly and thick. Like your hair. I’m so jealous of your hair. “ She dips the brush in the jar, scraping it on the edge and holding it up to Dot’s face. “Can you move in closer?” 

“My hair?” Dot asks, shocked. She scoots in closer. 

“Have you ever seen it before?” Sophie snarks. She holds the brush above her eyelid. “Blink.” 

Dot blinks. “Well yes, but yours is way more soft! And it’s such a pretty color! Mine is just a frizzy mess!” Dot says, wondering if Sophie is just lying to be nice. She moves onto the other eye. 

“Blink. I mean, yes, my hair’s flawless, but it’s a very high standard to live up to. You just need a good brush! Here, try this one, it’s great for bedheads,” Sophie says, putting the small brush down and reaching for with very fine bristles. It is also bejeweled, and Dot begins to wonder if Sophie is stealing this stuff. “Not my best work, but I did have a short notice. Pretty good, all things considered. What do you think?” She holds up the mirror. 

“Wait! Let me comb my hair first!” Dot says, looking away and running the comb through her hair. It takes a while, and at one point it gets stuck and Sophie has to look away from her nails to help pull it out. 

“Ready?” Sophie asks, holding up the mirror. “My arm’s getting tired.”

“Yeah, okay,” Dot says hesitantly. She looks into the mirror. And dampens.  “I look the same!” she protests, looking away from her face. The same round face with dull bangs and the same brown eyes. 

Sophie frowns. “Not really. Look at yourself.” 

Dot does, and slowly, she can see bits and pieces of herself come together. Her eyes are bright, framed by dark lashes, and her hair looks more put together, and neat. She smiles at the mirror. Stray curls frame her round face. Her bangs, and freckles, which she usually hates, make her look more inviting, like she’s someone she’d want to talk with. 

“Wow. That's me!"

"That's you." Sophie says, nodding. 

Thanks Sophie,” Dot says, trying not to cry. Is this what it’s like to have a sister? Have a friend? Be beautiful?

“No problem darling.” Sophie says, letting Dot take the mirror. 

“Uh Sophie? Do you mind not telling Hester and Anadil about this?” Dot asks, shyly. 

Sophie is staring at her nails again, but she says, “Mmhmm. “

Later, before Hester and Anadil come back for bed, Dot scrubs off the mascara gently, to leave no marks. She looks at the mirror, and is surprised to find, nothing has changed. Those same bits and pieces are still there. Mascara, is just that, mascara. It's not Dot. She still sees the Dot she saw earlier. Even when she smiles. Especially then. 

She beams and jumps up and down. Nothing can explain the joy she has when she realizes that maybe, just maybe, there’s nothing wrong with how she looks. Dot likes herself. 

That’s good enough for her. 

And maybe Dot’s good enough already. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if sophie seems ooc, that's on me, i have a hard time writing her. also hester and anadil do learn to be nicer to dot,   
> maybe that would be a good prompt for a day!   
> this subject is easy to mess up. listen, if anything, and i mean anything, was upsetting about this oneshot, please don't hesitate to let me know on my [tumblr](https://castorfordean.tumblr.com) and i will change it.


	4. sgetober day seven: snow ball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which reena asks beatrix to the ball, and beatrix has to hit pause momentarily

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have some reatrix for the soul

“If Tedros doesn’t end up asking you, will consider me?” Reena asks her one night, as they’re getting ready for bed. Beatrix promptly fumbles and drops her lotion into the pearl sink. And then hits pause. **  
**

Two girls can’t go to the Snow Ball together, right? If they could, Beatrix would know. And Tedros is going to ask her, alright. _He is_. He has to. Betarix didn’t send that damned letter to mother for no reason. 

Oh well. Another broken heart means..nothing. But… will Reena not want to be her friend after? Is it possible to be friends with someone who’s heart you’ve broken? 

Losing Reena as a friend would be a significant loss. Even to someone like Beatrix, who’s had as many friends and lost as many friends as she’s had days and lost those. Reena is everything you’d want in a friend. She’s pretty, she’s much nicer than Beatrix, she’s hilarious in a witty, dry way, and she’s fun to talk with. She's not like the girls from the village, she's not living up to a standard, she's full of life, vibrant and bright. 

It’s at this moment, Beatrix truly does not like herself. She could count the times she’s liked herself on one hand lately, but she wants to just shrivel up for even thinking that. How could she? Is she considering trading in a night with Tedros, (who’d probably goggle at himself in every passing surface like an ape and step on her feet), over a night with her best friend? 

No, mother is not here, and she doesn’t have to do anything she doesn’t want to. 

She hits play. 

“In case he really does ask Agatha? I don’t want to go with anyone else.” Reena admits at Beatrix's hesitation. 

Beatrix can imagine them in pretty gowns and matching lipstick, ditching their dates to dance with each other, no one else in the room but them. She smiles. “I’d be honored to go with you Reena. We can leave our dates and make a night out of it.” 

Reena’s smile back to her sets the stone. Beatrix aims for her now, no one and nothing else. 


	5. sgetober day eight: agatha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which tedros gets a scarier equivalent of a shovel talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i like to think they got a normal second school year and sophie embraced her never potential eventually (this is just a self indulgent oneshot, i'm still living in 2016, don't think about it too hard)

**sgetober day eight: agatha**

All things considered, Tedros thinks he’s done rather well at hiding his ginormous, war beginning, world ending, unfortunate, strong, unreasonable crush on Agatha. 

He was beginning to be excellent at suppressing the urge to smile at her laugh or brush back that persistent lock of hair that always falls into her face, or- anything of that matter, honestly. Tedros, being the sensible (and shy) person he’s always been, was prepared to let his feelings go by like a train burning up the tracks. 

In retrospect, he should’ve been smarter. 

“I know your secret.” Sophie calls out one day during the beginning of lunch. Tedros eyes snap to her, leaning back on a tree stump. He already knows what she's talking about. 

_No she doesn’t, she’s calling your bluff_. “Doubtful.” Tedros scoffs. Internally, he’s trying to figure out how Sophie has him trapped with those four words. 

“Oh please Teddy, the only person who’s doubting is you.” Sophie says, her voice a playful lilt. Tedros winces at the nickname. It sounds like something his mother would call him. He’s not fond of it. 

“What do you want?” he snaps, already on edge. 

“What do you want?” Sophie asks back, voice hardened. “I don’t trust your interest in Aggie.” 

Aggie and Teddy. A pair of dolls for the child to jerk around. Tedros clenches his jaw. “I don’t… I’m afraid I don’t understand your point.” 

Sophie laughs. “You’re very polite when you want, you know that? What do you want with someone like Agatha?” At Tedros' look, she adds. “I love her, but she’s never been very eloquent.” 

_That’s what I like about her._ Tedros bites to say. _Agatha is real._

Instead he says, “Agatha is Good. She’s a Good person.” and then he asks. “So why do you, A Never, care about what happens to her? I know about your fallout. You were never nice to her anyways.” 

Sophie looks offended. “She is- was- my best friend, of course I’m worried about what happens to her!” 

Tedros quirks an eyebrow. “Really?” 

Sophie shrugs, leaning back. “Me and Aggie are more alike than you may think. Dirty roots, big tree… but to my misfortune, and your luck, she’s bound to Good like I am to Evil.” 

“That doesn’t tell me anything.” 

“You’re dodging my question. Why Agatha?” Sophie asks, eyes hard now to match her voice. 

_This must be the more scary equivalent of the shovel talk. You have less of a risk to end up discombobulated with a regular one._

Her shoulders are tenser than anything, and it hits Tedros that she must really care about Agatha. 

“She’s real,” Tedros says, a little shy but fueled. “She’s never anything but herself, and she’s okay with that. She never lies or cheats, not because she thinks she’s better or superior, but because she’s never had a reason to. And after everything my whole life has been fake-” Sophie averts her gaze. “-she’s like a fresh breeze of air.” Tedros says, grinning madly. 

“And she never judges you for being less then that.” Sophie finishes. 

“She’s the most genuine person I’ve ever known. And she never makes you feel like you’re wrong, or-” 

“Broken.” Sophie says, nodding. She stands up so that they can face each other. Tedros tenses up, but Sophie just smiles, unexpectedly real. She looks like the girl from last year. 

“You should tell her. But just remember, you’re gonna have to share.” With that, she walks past him, snow crackling under her boots. 

Tedros doesn’t know how long he’s standing there, relieved or nervous, clear headed, but a burst of light fills the courtyard as he hears the delighted screech of laughter and an bemused yell. Agatha is throwing snowballs at Kiko, who dances away gleefully. 

Kiko runs past him and Agatha and him meet eyes. She smiles, eyes crinkling. “Hey Tedros, wanna help me get revenge? Kiko stuffed snow down my back!” 

He smiles back and strides towards her. “You go after her while I cut her off by the lunch line.” 

Agatha smiles back, cupping snow in her mittens. “Good idea officer!” She begins to follow Kiko.

“Agatha! After we’re done vanquishing our foe, I have something to tell you!”


	6. sgetober day nine: wish fish

chaddick shouldn’t. 

but he does anyway. 

the surface of the water looks so dark and hard, like the night sky, chaddick is struck with the thought of his finger striking the surface hard but it sinks into the water easily.

he doesn’t know what he expected, when nothing happens. 

then, the dark blue fades into navy. a blue. a uniform. chaddick is left to stare pointlessly at the awful image. it doesn’t matter if it’s his wish. it’s still awful compared to the reality. 

nick smiles from the pond, hair loose and curly, not gelled back. everboy uniform, not his princely black one. expressive brown eyes wide open, not shut. 

chaddick thinks he prefers him, a mirage, more then the brutal reality. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chadnick feels tonight


	7. sgetober day ten: sophie

Ten Reasons I LOVE my sister Sophie (sometimes)

  1. Sophie, this is dumb, third person? Just cause you're a 'good dean' doesn't mean you make me write an essay. I graduated for a reason. 
  2. She has good ideas for sister bonding time 
  3. She made me write number two. This is an awful idea. Can we go to town? I really want green apple sweets. 
  4. Okay I can see she’s writing more then me. I feel bad. Uh, she’s actually really creative. She always comes up with clever ways to have fun. 
  5. Sophie’s actually hilarious. She loves to laugh and make people laugh. One time she told this joke about a sheriff, a damsel, and a dean walking into a- you just had to be there. I couldn't tell it right. 
  6. Agatha loves Sophie because Sophie doesn’t seem to mind that Agatha’s default is well, grumpy, but she doesn’t find it cute the way Tedros does. It’s just who Agatha is to her. She never wants anyone else, like Court Agatha or Queenly Agatha.
  7. Sophie’s just really special. She just wants Agatha to be Agatha. A very rare thing indeed. 
  8. One time we tried out gigglejuice and ~~I~~ \- _Agatha_ discovered Sophie’s a really horrible singer when she's trying to hit those high notes. It was wonderful. We were so happy and light and giggly and Tedros found us on the stairs an hour later. It's such a good memory. Well, the things I remember. 
  9. She just wrote "stop looking at my list" and I-whoops- _Agatha_ \- couldn’t restrain a chuckle for the life of her. No matter if it’s a laugh or a snicker, she’s the funniest and wittiest person I’ve ever known. Ever. 
  10. Because Sophie is the sister Agatha has always wanted and needed, she’s like this beautiful tropical fish you see who chooses you. That was a freaky metaphor. Dammit, I wish I could erase! Sophie doesn’t care about being perfect, she knows about her shortcomings, and she works at them. She’s strong, tough, funny, lovely, and I look up to her, and even if she shows me this later, I’ll never admit it. She’s fiercely loyal, and has grown so much. I know I’m the little sister and I don’t get to be, but I’m proud of her. 



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hmm i don't know how i feel about this. i hope you guys like it!


	8. sgetober day eleven and twelve: doom room and underrated character(s)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> very minor descriptions of violence, will mark with a * if you need to skip  
> sorry about the late update! i decided to merge both days together, just for the angst. takes place during tlea

On a good day, Ravan would look forward to a visit to the doom room.

Today is not a good day. But to be fair, he hasn’t had many of those in a while.

The defining feature begins in the stairway. It’s a damp, narrow, steep hallway. Ravan is watching his prim, tiny steps through bleary eyes. It was a long night.

So he’s not fully awake when Chaddick of Foxwood suddenly stops. He crashes into the boy’s back.

What follows is a beautiful symphony of organized disaster.

Chaddick falls into the student in front of him, and that student falls into the student in front of fun, and it’s like dominoes, the amazing way everything falls apart.

Ravan wishes he could disappear.

“What the hell?” He hisses under his breath, to a disoriented Chaddick.

“Watch where you’re going!” Chaddick snaps back.

“What kind of idiot stops in the middle of the narrowest stairway!” Ravan demands.

“He dropped his books!” Chaddick defends. A nervous boy pokes his head out from behind Chaddicks shoulder. Ravan sneers. 

There’s a clinking coming down the stairs. Both of the boys turn their heads to see the shiny boots stand in front of them. “Looks like someone gets to go to the doom room!” Aric says in a sing-song voice. Both of their attention is drawn to the whip on his side. 

Ravan can feel Chaddick’s panic, and it’s not helping him out. “This can be explained-” Chaddick begins, but is ignored. Ravan scowls at Aric, who’s grinning like a maniac.

“You ruined the very foundation which the school is carried on. You’re the first student who fell, therefore you're the student who’s caused this disaster. I’ll see you in the Doom Room- _Flopsy_.” Aric says, with far too much pleasure in those words. Ravan furiously evaluates his nickname- no doubt taken from the damp curly locks that are pulled back. 

With that, the clinking carries on up the stairs, and Chaddick is the one who pulls Ravan up and to the side so that they can be narrowly passed. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I didn’t say anything, I was just-” he grapples with words. Ravan is hardly looking at him.

“Let go of me,” Ravan snarls, wrestling loose. “Haven’t you done enough?”

“It wasn’t my fault!” Chaddick cries.

“Forget it.” Ravan replies sourly. He picks up his bag and sends Chaddick one more despising look. “It’s not your fault, but that doesn’t mean you’re innocent.”

Chaddick blinks, but Ravan is already going back up the stairs. “Tell Sheeba where I am.” he calls.

“I really am sorry,” Chaddick yells back. “Tell me how I can make it better!”

Ravan just sends him a look and follows the boots. He doesn’t know what Chaddick gets out of it, but he doesn’t like the light bulb that goes off.

*It’s excruciating in there, with _him_. Ravan blocks out most of it, other than the sharp hits. Luckily, there’s a queue. Ravan never thought that would be a good thing. This really hasn’t been his year. He’s so vulnerable. He has no power. He’s not who he was. He’s starting to feel alone, and isolated. He never felt alone before. *

There really is something about the Doom Room which brings all dull pain to focus. 

He’s hoping for an empty room so that he can be weak on his own, but when he comes in, Chaddick, Beatrix and Reena are sitting there, facing the door like they were waiting for him. 

And despite everything that’s threatening to come to surface, they look like they belong there, Chaddick sitting low on the bottom bunk, Beatrix sitting against the bed frame with Reena, the latters legs against her chest.

He feels shame rising in himself, his throat constricts, and he has to fight back to the urge to grovel or cry. Chaddick is the first to speak. “C’mere.” he pats next to him on the bed.

Ravan hangs his head and ambles over, so that Reena and Beatrix can expose his shoulder. Chaddick sucks in air through clenched teeth. Ravan doesn’t need to look to know that it’s bad.

“I’m sorry this happened to you,” Reena says, as Beatrix takes initiative, pouring water over it. Ravan hisses. “We’ve got to stick together.”

She clears her throat and gives Chaddick a pointed look. Chaddick starts, then softens. “I’m really, really sorry about not saying anything when Aric accused you.”

He wouldn’t either. But he’d like to be forgiven, so he forgives Chaddick.

Chaddick’s moderate reaction changes to anger when he sees Reena hand Beatrix another bandage. “That creep. He’s always just looking for an excuse to… to..” Ravan’s left leg twitches violently.

“You’re very loud, you know that?” Ravan asks.

“Yeah, I’m sorry.” Chaddick says, moving so he can sit on the floor across from him.

“It’s not a bad thing.” Ravan says. _It’s your character_. Ravan used to be loud as a child. He learned though. He hopes Chaddick never has to.

“Stop moving.” Beatrix says, no bite behind it.

“Bea, his shoulder bone-”

“Oh shit.” Beatrix mutters.

“What? What’s wrong with it?” Ravan says, craning his neck around. Reena pushes it back. “Stop looking.”

They’re quite a force to be reckoned with.

Chaddick is pulling at the thin rug, rubbing strands of strings between his fingers. Ravan doesn’t know what to say to him. A thanks? They already said sorry.

Eventually, they let him tug his shirt back up, and Beatrix moves around from behind him. “Alright Ravan, as long as I change your bandages and we have a steady stream of ointment, you’ll be okay. Be gentle though! No starting fights in the stairwell.” she fake scolds, crumpling up the paper left from the bandages. 

“Is that what happened?” Ravan asks dryly. Chaddick sends him a mischievous smile.

“Maybeee.”

“Well, thank you both. I guess” Ravan says, buttoning up his shirt. The girls smile at him. Reena’s is more sympathetic and caring, which Ravan doesn't know how to feel about, while Beatrix’s is more amused. He decides, maybe all Evers aren’t so bad. But he'll deny it if needed.

“You guys wanna play cards?” Chaddick asks, pulling out a small deck.

“Where were you hiding that?” Reena asks amusedly.

“Well, in my boot, but I swear, they’re not smelly or anything.” Chaddick says, sniffing them. “Well, they’re in the box!” 

Ravan surprises them by laughing. “Yeah, okay. We have time before the fairies come around.”

“Excellent! Have you guys played Go Fish before?”

They all groan. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> could be platonic,, could not be,,, you decide lmao, personally, i think they're cute!


	9. sgetober day fourteen: dean(s)

“Tell me more about your reader.” Dovey says. 

Lesso waves her wineglass. “She’s awful.”

Dovey waits.

“She wears pink, has a shrill voice, and her hair gets everywhere.” Lesso grumps. “Happy?” 

“She sounds like someone I know.” Dovey muses. Lesso snorts into her glass. 

“It was one time! And the dress was more orange-red then pink.” 

“Oh, stop being pretentious for one minute in your life.” Dovey responds, picking up her mug. “You like the other Nevers well enough, you just don’t like Sophie because she reminds you of yourself.” 

“Hardy har.” Lesso says sourly. 

“You know I’m right.” Dovey says calmly, taking a drink. 

“What about your reader? I hear she ate a fairy on the first day.” Lesso says with a grin. 

“She’s very charming, thank you.” Dovey says stiffly. 

Lesso’s grin widens. 

“Oh fine. She’s hopeless. The other day I saw her doodling a skull onto her Princess Handbook. We were reading a chapter on Princely Requirements.” Dovey says, very piteously. 

Lesso cackles while Dovey sniffs. “I suppose you think it’s funny, considering what a model student your reader is!” 

That shuts Lady Lesso up. 

“Well, despite the pink, I have great faith in her. The schoolmaster ought to have learned from… last year.” Lesso says carefully, watching her counterparts face. 

Dovey just slackens. “Let’s hope so. I am rather fond of Agatha, despite her shortcomings.” 

“Think of them as cactus flowers.” Lesso suggests. 

“Do those even exist?” Dovey asks. 

“Oh sure. You see them all over in Shazabah and Thicket Tumble. They’re not very rare,” Lesso waves off. She finishes off her wine. “Maybe their prickles and thorns will guard a lovely flower.” 

The two ponder on this metaphor over the setting sun. The silver balcony has turned a lovely pink- purple shade. 

“That was rather sweet, coming from you.” Dovey teases, setting her stewing mug on the tiny stand between them. 

“Oh, do shut up!” 

“You love me.” 

“Doesn’t change the fact you’re on my last nerve.” 

“Doesn’t it though?”


	10. sgetober day seventeen: nevers

sure, nevers have henchmen, they had minions, familiars, mogrifs, manipulations, even covens. but one can’t help the feeling of loneliness one gets when aligned with their side. 

it might be part of the hardening process, to be alone, or it could just be the consequences of being a never. were you alone before or after you knew what you were? 

most can’t answer. 

it’s not a surprise that no matter what happens, you end up alone. nevers are supposed to end up that way, if they’re strong enough to succeed and get the never fantasy, it’s paradise alone. 

maybe that's why nevers haven’t won, really won, in years.


	11. sgetober day nineteen: clumps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> au: everyone is alive and happy. 
> 
> thank the sge fandom on tumblr for this, i was planning on writing angst >:) but they could ask me to write jaric and i'd comply (they wouldn't though aha don't worry)

**sgetober nineteen: clumps**

“I’m sorry, what’s the issue again?” Chaddick asks Tedros, dodging his parry and responding with a side sweep. 

Tedros steps aside, bending to dodge it. “What do you get for the queen who has everything?” 

“A nice backrub.” Beatrix suggests from the side, sharpening her sword with a scary precision. 

“Agatha has access to the knights chiropractors for that.” Tedros protests, as their blades meet. Him and Chaddick press forward with equal strength. 

“I don’t know, I’d rather get one from Reena. It’d mean more, you know what I mean?” 

“I don’t know, I’ve never gotten a backrub from Reena.” Tedros says, making Beatrix laugh, setting her sword on the fountain side next to her. “And you never will!” 

“Maybe some apple tarts. Gave Nick some a few weeks ago and he liked them a lot, if you catch my drif-” Chaddick starts, waggling his eyebrows.

“Dude, shut up!” Tedros says, half laughing and wrinkling his nose. Chaddick gains the upper hand, so Tedros ducks under his arm and slaps him on the behind with his rapier. Chaddick yelps and falls. 

Beatrix claps and jeers at a grumbling Chaddick while Tedros' attention is caught by the two women walking over to the clearing through the garden hedges. “Hey Agatha! Did you see that?” 

“Sadly, I was distracted.” Agatha says, faking innocence on Sophie’s arm, hobbling a bit. “What was it?” 

“She was distracted by you.” Sophie says, making Agatha gasp and hit her with her robes. 

Tedros grins and leans in for a kiss. “Some sugar, love?”

“Ew, you’re sweaty.” Agatha says, pushing his chest away. She gives him a chaste kiss anyway, grinning against his lips. 

“Ew.” Sophie says disinterestedly, and goes over to talk to Beatrix, who’s trying to get Chaddick to duel with her. 

“And how are you this fine morning?” Tedros asks, pulling a shirt and leaving the laces undone. 

“I’m doing well. I got a letter saying Hester and Anadil are going to arrive tomorrow.” Agatha says, with as little enthusiasm one can muster when the subject is one's twentieth birthday. 

“That’s great! On a completely unrelated note, we put them in the west wing, right?” Tedros asks, lowering his voice.

Agatha laughs. “Yes, per your request. Sadly, the seating chart has Hester right next to you for the feast. And I’m at the other side of the table. All the way at the bottom.” 

“You better be kidding with me.” Tedros tells her. Agatha just shrugs playfully. “Are you sure that’s all you want to do?” 

Agatha shrugs. “Maybe lunch in the garden. A picnic! That’d be nice.” She sways for a minute before regaining her balance. “Somewhere we can sit and relax.”

Watching her thumb the blue bellflowers, Tedros heart soars. He wants to give her everything. He wants to sing a million ballads and songs and take her hand and never leave her, watch her laugh and smile and talk, to brush that lock of hair out of her face just so her brown eyes look at him with that look of love and expersation she’s patented, to stay by her side until she says. To love her until. He wants her to feel loved like he does when he’s with her. Tomorrow has to be good enough. 

“You’re doing it again.” Agatha says with a little smile. 

“I love you.” Tedros says. He takes her arm, her hand coming to rest on his bicep. “A picnic sounds great. If you want, we can have breakfast in bed. We can do anything.” 

“You have a council meeting at eight.” Agatha reminds him, as they stroll through the garden. The yellow hydrangeas tickle his nose. 

“Screw the council, it’s the Queen’s birthday!” He exclaims, hand on his sword. “What are they gonna do, drag me from our bed? I think not.”

He’s a good king, but he wants to be a better husband. He’s young anyways, he has enough meetings to make up, but this special day comes once a year. 

“Good mentality babe, screw those old dudes,” Agatha says with a wicked grin. They round back to the fountain, where Chaddick and Beatrix are dueling while Sophie sings to her reflection in the fountain. “Anyways, I’m more excited to see what you get me!” 

“Tedros nervously chuckles. “Aha, yeah…” 

* * *

It’s nearly nine when Chaddick, Nick, Bettina, Sophie, and Beatrix meet in the sitting room in the east wing. The crackling fire and orange and gold light makes the whole affair look suspicious, a dark meeting between some of the highest influences of the Woods, when in reality, Tedros needs to be conferenced about what to get his wife for her birthday. 

“Why did you invite Chaddick? The two of you share a brain cell.” Bettina quips. Chaddick makes a face at her while Nick laughs. 

“Bettina, apologize to Tedros- whoops, I mean Chaddick, right now!” Sophie chastises her. The two girls snicker. 

“I didn’t ask you to meet me so you could mock me.” Tedros protested. At Chaddick's hurt look, he adds on hurriedly. “And Chaddick.”

“This whole thing can be solved in under six minutes if we work together,” Nick says evenly. “What are you getting Agatha from her birthday?” he asks Sophie. 

“Me and Callis are getting her a commission.” Sophie responds. Her hair looks like it’s glowing. 

“Damn, why didn’t I think of that?” Tedro asks, slapping his forehead. 

“You live with her, you see her more than we do.” Sophie explains. 

“Oh. Yeah, that makes sense,” Sophie just smiles tightly. Tedros spins in his chair. “Look guys, I’ve always been really bad at this. Remember last year when me and Sophie got Agatha the _same_ pair of clumps that she didn’t even end up liking? And when I got Chaddick that really bad scammed bow?” 

(Sophie mutters that hers were better.) 

“And one time you gave me a peacock.” Nick adds. 

“I thought you’d like the feathers! Don’t you have peacocks in Ginnymill?” 

“Yes, so why would I need another one?” 

Tedros comphends this while Chaddick snorts into his fist. “I never knew this.” 

“Now you do.” 

“This is besides the point,” Beatrix groans. “Tedros, just spend the day in bed and order chocolate strawberries.” 

Tedros' mind dives happily in the gutter. Doesn’t that sound nice? 

“Ew.” Sophie says again, filing her nails with a little knife. 

“We can’t.” Tedros says, snapping back to reality. “We invited all our friends.” 

“Why’d you do that?” Beatrix demands. 

“We always have birthday feasts!” 

“They’re never fun.” Beatrix mutters. “Except when Sophie and the chief fight. That’s fun.” 

Sophie sends her a broad grin.

“Can I go to bed?” Nick asks, Chaddick’s head on his shoulder. “I’m really tired, and we’re never gonna agree-”

Tedros bangs a fist on the table. “No one is leaving until we come up with something!” 

“How about you come up with something then?” Bettina challenges. 

“You haven’t said anything!” Tedros snaps back. 

“What’s going on here?” Agatha demands, looking at the group arguing over a table, like a war meeting. Her hair is in a towel, and her hands are on her hips. 

Chaddick plops back down in his seat. “Uh…” 

“Politics-”

“Feast arrangements-” 

“Your birthday-”

“Your marriage-”

“Tedros’s daddy issues-” 

Agatha blinks. “Somehow, all of that sounds about right.” She walks over to Tedros seat, a slight limp in her walk. Tedros frowns. 

“What’s wrong, are you alright?” 

Agatha waves him off. “I’m fine, sore feet. Goodnight.” She drops a kiss on his eyelid. 

“You’re gonna be an old woman tomorrow!” Tedros yells after her. 

Agatha responds with a frumpled smile. 

Everyones all smiles until she leaves, then everyone slumps. “We are screwed.” Chaddick mumbles. 

Tedros sits up with rapt attention. “Or maybe not.” he turns to Sophie. “Where are you and Callis staying again?” 

* * *

Callis looks pleased when Tedros tells her the plan, which is a nice change from the really scare glare she greeted him with when she opened the door. 

"She'll love that." She keeps saying, as they walk out to the stables. "I'm actually impressed with what you're getting my daughter this year. Good job." 

Tedros just smiles tightly, because he can never tell when Callis is joking with him. "Yeah, I've been noticing her feet have been hurting a lot lately? She's always unbalanced or hobbling." 

"She gets her high arches from me." Callis says, like it's something to be proud of. "She does it for you, you know." Callis says suddenly.

"Huh?" 

"The heels." 

Tedros stops. "I never asked her to." 

"Doesn't matter," Callis says, mounting her horse smoothly and waiting for Tedros to jump on his. "She doesn't want you to think she's not adapting well to Camelot." 

"I thought it was fine." Tedros mutters, mind racing. 

"I told her home was where the dead frogs are," Callis says easily. "I hate your big castle." 

Tedros snorts. "Well, of course." 

"But she said dead frogs _and_ your smile." Callis continues, as if she didn't hear him. 

Tedros chest clenches. "C'mon, let's get going. Gotta make it back in time for my wife's birthday." 

"You better keep her busy in the morning, I'm sleeping in. This is a long journey." Callis threatens. Tedros laughs.

"It's the least I can do." 

* * *

Despite her dawning twenties, there was always something of a little girl in Agatha, with her big eyes and pale paper skin, the peace on her face as she sleeps. A delicacy you want to preserve for as long as you possibly can. 

But Tedros is not one to be patient. “Guess who’s birthday it is today?” he crows, opening the blinds. 

Agatha and Reaper hiss in protest. “It’s not my birthday until nine.” Agatha protests. 

“It’s ten love.” Tedros explains, pushing a little tray towards the left side of the bed and climbing over her to his side. “Coffee?” 

Agatha’s eyes open. “Yes.” 

With Tedros coaxing, she allows him to sing to her, as they split strawberry and blueberry pancakes, and she pretends to blow his bobbing finger glow, just to set it in stone. It’s very calm, with the light coming over the backboard of the bed, and the thin white sheets making the breakfast in bed seem so much richer then two people eating pancakes and fruit with their fingers. 

“Do you wanna see what I got you?” Tedros asks a little shyly, standing in the doorway of their closet. Agatha smiles warmly, buttoning her tight cuffs. Her red dress is lovely, dark and simple, with sleeves that billow out until it meets her wrists. Her hair is in a little ponytail, her bangs pushed to the left of her face. 

“Let’s see what it is!” 

Tedros presents the simple black box. “Your mom helped me out with finding and restoring these-” he explains, as Agatha takes the top off and pulls the wrapping paper out. “-she thought it was a great idea, for once.” 

Agatha gasps. “Oh.” she says, a little softly. She puts her hands to her mouth. “Tedros-” 

“I never wanted you to lose that part of you Agatha.” Tedros says. “I love all parts of you. I know I make fun of them, but they’re you, so I love them.” 

Agatha’s eyes start to water. “I love you, you know that?” 

Tedros smiles. “I know Agatha. 

She takes out a polished black clump, shaking off the skinny heels and revealing black and white striped socks. “I never lost all of it.” she reveals with a grin. 

And the clumps fit perfectly, like they always have and always will. 


	12. sgetober day twenty two: tedros

**sgetober day twenty two: tedros**

Dear Sophie, 

I’m sorry I haven’t wrote you in a while. As you know, me and Tedros were traveling Camelot and the other kingdoms after the attacks on the quests. We were giving aid. Thank you for coming to meet us at Four Point to give us aid, I can’t thank you enough. 

I got to Camelot a while ago, per Tedros’ request, and have been catching up on everything while he’s still in Foxwood-

I'm just realizing how fake I sound. It’s just, you said I seemed off in my last letter, and I’m embarrassed to explain why. 

The truth is, I can’t help to think he sent me away on purpose. There’s not as much to be done as he’s said, Beatrix and Reena have been great help. It just makes me feel useless when all I have to do is sit in the cold room surrounded by all these advisors and sign aimlessly away on bills for maintenance and fields. I’m trying to trust him like you said, but he’s pulling away. I don’t blame him, of course not. His father was the rug he stood on, and it’s been pulled out from under him. Is it possible it’s too late for me to trust him? 

No, maybe not, but maybe too late for him to know. We haven’t been more then allies in letters. Recovery has no business, being this hard. 

A while ago, there was only been two people Tedros had been real with, which was me and his mother. I’m the only one besides Guinevere who sees all the heartbreak and loss and anger and resentment he’s got stored up inside. And he’s still distant with her after everything. He shows her, but she doesn’t know it and see it like I do. He lets me see it, all of it. Every fucked up feeling, angry, broken, human bit of him that he can’t let anyone in the world see? I get it. 

Neither of us feel like we belong here, in Camelot, in the story, anywhere. So we try to earn it. It’s not just a quest, it's what our own worthiness rests on. 

We’re both idiots, honestly, with all this self doubt and inadequacy, and fuck, Tedros’ trusted me to be there with him through it. As his queen. As his rock. 

I broke that. 

Because I don’t know if I can say I love him like I used to. 

I don’t think I have that right anymore.

When Lance died, when his father’s sons were revealed, when he couldn’t even trust his mother anymore, when he couldn’t even talk to Chaddick anymore, I couldn’t just step back and let him come to me. 

I was all that was left. And then, I wasn’t there. It doesn’t matter why, if it was for some noble cause or something like I’ve heard it said, it just matters that I wasn’t there. He doesn’t trust me to be anymore. 

I haven’t heard from him in weeks. No one has. 

He’s not the same anymore. _We’re_ not the same. Hell, are any of us? 

_Agatha_


	13. sgetober day twenty three and four: hort and favorite ship

Hort thinks he’s in love, again. 

But again, he could be feeling something else. He’s been wrong before. 

It all happened after they met. When they did, he (Ravan) was gruff and awkward and he had these dark all knowing eyes and a scowl, and his sweater cuffs were messed up and threaded loose. He had two little dots under his right eye. Hort didn’t know why he noted that then, but he knows now. He’s never forgotten. 

He reminds Hort of the bittersweet memories of his adolescence, with the dark curtains, dusty books, piano lessons, chocolate cake, and comic book wrapping cover. He’s tall and he has these quirky features to his face when he’s loosened up. He plays soccer. It’s awesome to watch. He likes his coffee with one sugar packet, and Hort can’t count the times he’s watched Ravan precisely pour the sugar crystals into his paper cup, with a sort of mesmerized awe. He’s so articulate and smart. When he talks, it’s amazing because he uses as little words as possible to make the meaning. His laugh implores Hort to make him laugh even more. 

But he’s not perfect, even though he may be closer than Hort is. 

He’s got shit taste in movies. He thought the Avatar remake was ‘pretty good’. He liked the Marvel movies, and they get into fights about them when they’re driving back from the theater. He debates the rules of board games like the fate of the world rests on it. And somehow, he’s shit at CandyLand. Hort didn’t think it was possible, but he is. Ravan always has a nasty comment dying to break free, and when it does, it’s a battlefield, and Hort came holding nothing but a trumpet, music to Ravan’s ears, always wanting to have the upper hand. 

But Hort has a big nose, jagged hair, and a nervous grin and an abysmal fashion sense that has made even Sophie give up on him (no way he was letting go of those Nirvana tees). Everything about Hort screams chaotic mess with his mussed hair, denim and hands too big for the rest of his body, baggy jeans and skater tops and dirty converses, and all of it topped off by a trying- his best- which- is not- very- good aura. He drinks milk out of the bottle, scoops up jam with his fingers, and licks the plate no matter the company. They argue endlessly about this, because despite his lack of social grace, Ravan was raised with Morals and Etiquette. Hort, was not. (“My dad was visiting!” “What, so I’m supposed to let the sauce go tot waste?”) But at least Hort can greet people and say hello without his pride getting in the way, unlike some people. Ravan has an unfaltering glare that makes him look closed off and unfriendly, and has to be reminded to wash his clothes. 

Neither of them are beautiful to normal standards, but Hort thinks it’s something they can live with. Yeah, he’s stupid and Ravan’s a bit of a bastard, but so what? Hort likes their flaws. Who wants to live in a world where everything is perfect, like robots? He’d rather have this sense of love. 


	14. sgetober day twenty six: the blue forest

“I don’t why you like me,” Hester mumbled that night, after Aric, after the fight, in the woods. She’s sitting on the hood of her car, the navy leaves letting silver light through them. It’s a beautiful setting, but in less than fortunate circumstances. “Seriously. I think somethings wrong with me up there.” She points up to her head, elbow nearly hitting Agatha’s forehead. She’s sitting on top of the hood of her car, understandably upset. 

Agatha just huffed, and put the Band-Aids back in her rucksack. “Everyone has something wrong with them. You’re the most normal angry teenager I know.” Hester’s quiet after she says that, and she turns back to her, if only to guarantee that Hester hasn’t stolen away again. 

“My anger is something different Agatha. Maybe I should be talking to someone.” Hester mutters, pulling at her fingers, a nervous tick Agatha’s discovered.

“Maybe you should be, but that doesn’t mean anything to me. You’re the same person to me you’ve always been.”

“You don’t like me.” Hester said, sounding uncharacteristically sullen. “You like the cool, fun Hester. Not me. Not this. ”

“That is very untrue.” Agatha consoles, coming up to her. “I like all the parts of you Hester, even the parts you don’t like. I like you, and the brilliant way your brain works.”

Hester smiles at her, broken and with a bloodied cheek and smeared eyeliner, but Agathas, all hers, and so open. “I like that you always know what to say.”

When they kiss the world sharpens into focus. Agatha feels like she’s been turned inside out. 

They don’t stop after that. Agatha has never wanted to.


	15. sgetober twenty seven: the coven

Things haven’t been right with the three of them for a while. Most of senior year, actually. 

Dot feels like they’ve grown up while she's stayed the same, and they’re talking about college letters and apartments while Dot is obsessing over her Animal Crossing island and saving up to get her hair dyed. 

But tradition takes no notice of impending change or awkwardness, so on October twenty seventh, four days before Halloween, Dot makes her way up Hesters driveway with an overnight bag. They leave the door unlocked, as if Dot still feels like Hester’s house is homelike. Maybe for Anadil (definitely for Anadil), but it’s been too long for her. 

It’s still a bit surprising to see Hester’s tattoo. It’s been there for a few months, but it’s still strange. Hester’s so much more mature than Dot. They both are. When did they decide to grow up without telling Dot? 

She never got the chance to ask Hester what the demon means

“Oh, I love this part,” Hester says, a delighted look on her face.

“You love all the parts.” Dot comments. 

“It is my favorite movie.” Hester says, as if they didn’t know. As if Dot didn’t buy her the directors cut for her birthday. As if she needs to be caught up on the last four years. 

Maybe Dot just needs to chill out. 

One of Hester’s favorite movies is Halloween IV. It’s not as good as the other three, and Dot doesn’t understand any part of it. Why can’t the killer just stay dead? On the other hand, Hester’s other favorite movie is Jennifer's Body. Can you see the recurring theme? 

A woman with wild eighties hair is stabbed clean through. Hester cackles at the fake pink blood that splays. Dot looks at Anadil who’s tapping on her phone. Usually they’d share funny looks whenever Hester is… well Hester, but she’s been on her phone the whole night. Dot wonders if she’s texting Hester and that’s why she feels so left out. 

“Hey Hester, do me a favor and skip to the ending? I really like that part.” Anadil says. Dot grins, despite herself. 

“Ending. Ending.” Dot starts to chant. She pulls at the blanket the three were sharing. Hester somehow slithered to the floor so she can lean against Anadils legs. 

Hester turns the volume louder and looks smug when the two are tuned out. Dot’s ears are ringing, Anadil just stops because it’s Hester’s birthday, and she’s a good girlfriend. She ultimately means nothing by it and it annoys Dot.

“Wanna play eight ball?” Anadil hollers to Dot over the sweltering music. 

“Yes!” Dot, a little quieter but still enthusiastic, pulling out her phone. 

Anadil wins. They keep playing until Hester skips the boring detective stuff, “because they asked, not just because it was boring her!” She leaves to go to the bathroom.

“I’m tired.” Dot yawns. She stands up and stretches, fingertips barely skirting the ceiling. “It’s like 3 AM.”

“Is it?” Anadil leans across the bed to look at her charging phone. “Yikes. At least tomorrow’s Sunday.”

Maybe she should take a shower and wait for the other two to fall asleep. She doesn’t sleep so good at other people’s houses anyways, and Hester and Anadil will probably sleep in Hester’s bed together, so Dot will be assigned to the couch in the loft and when they wake up they’ll just assume she left early. When Hester comes back she stoops over to give Anadil a kiss and Dot excuses herself to slump against the bathroom wall, confused. 

She feels all weird and torn up. She means, she has no desire to leave. She used to live for these sleepovers. It’s not like she’s staying in the bathroom to avoid her friends. Dot just feels… lost. She usually doesn’t mind pda, no, all her friends are always dating and falling in love, but ever since Kei, she’s just been wary of it. 

  
  


They’re drinking milk and eating more birthday cake. Anadi’s sitting against the counter, flicking on her phone, with Hester rummaging through the freezer and ranting about something. 

“-Ms. Lesso’s psycho though, what kind of teacher still has seating charts in October?” 

“Just tell him to fuck off.” Anaidl says. Dot has no idea what they’re talking about, but she does notice the cake on the stove. 

“I thought eating after twelve was bad for you.” Dot says, making her presence known. Hester slams the freezer. 

“It’s fine,” Anadil tells Dot, a rare smile spreading over her face. “We’re celebrating a very special birthday.”

“It’s not that special.” Hester says at the same time as Dot’s “She’s only nineteen.” Hester’s punch to Dot’s shoulder doesn’t feel as friendly as it used to. Dot just needs to chill out.

“Whatever,” She says, ignoring their immature squabbling. Hester stops when she catches her gaze. “It might be the last time we’ll hang out together like this. ” She’s talking about the boarding school they all go to dividing locations due to a dorm expansion. Some will stay at the school and some will be moved to another school location. Dot’s going to be moved. It’s only fitting. 

“Shut up Ani,” Hester licks her fork. “We have holiday break together.” 

Dot echoes a Yeah, but doesn’t really mean it. She feels like break will be something for _her_. Hester and Anadil are great, but Dot can see the growing chasm between their interests. Dot still wants to watch Sailor Moon and cartoons and listen to musicals, spend time with her mom, and go to Boy Pablo concerts. Would she be able to do that in the company of her oldest friends? Hester and Anadil watch old gory horror movies, play competitive soccer, and drive around the town after curfew and get high in Ravan’s basement, and Dot doesn’t feel old enough to do all that with them. She feels liberated, and she’s not up for making any plans right now. She mostly wants to stay with young for some time.

“Dot’s birthday’s coming up.” Hester reminds them. “She’ll be eighteen by then.”

Yeah. That’s a thing. Dot’s thing, technically. She’s never been a big fan of her birthday since her uncle left town. Maybe even before that.

Dot would have already moved into her dorm by then. Mariam has it all planned out for her, explaining that ever since daddy left, she can’t rent out the house. Dot remains neutral. It’ll be an experience. 

“Break is going to be a blast anyways,” Hester says, leaning forward and looking gleeful. “Cold weather, Mona’s RV, hoodies.” she lists off. 

“Truer words have never been spoken.” Anadil agrees. They both look at Dot, who’s pulling a thread from her sweater. She looks up. 

“What?” 

“Nothing.” Hester says. 

There was no good response to that, was there? What was she supposed to say? 

“If Mona’s still in town by then.” Anadil says. 

“Why wouldn’t she be in town?” Dot hoists herself up to sit on the counter next to her. The back of her legs jolt at the chill of the marble.

“She’s been living in that RV since she turned eighteen and her mom wanted her to pay rent. She’s been doing odd jobs around town, but barely any of them are legal.” Anadil tells her, ever the informant. “She’s been waiting til the semester ends to jet.” Anadil offers Dot some cake, to which he declines. She drops the plate down with a clatter. 

Mona, one of Dot’s closest friends since first grade. Dot still remembers her bobbing ponytails and her Wizard of Oz phase. They’d watch it in her mom’s basement and share gobstoppers, and talk about the cute boys in class. Why can’t they go back to that? Do they all have to advance to their adult lives so fast? 

“I’ve never liked camping that much, but I love her RV. Do you remember when we skipped school that day and went up to the Blue Forest?” 

Anadil is talking a lot. Is it because Dot’s been more silent tonight? Someone has to be loud one in their group? It’s not bad- no, definitely not bad or else this entire thing might be awkward- but Dot’s only now recognizing this. Huh. 

It’s so weird and unbalanced. 

“Yeah, and we spent the whole time listening to the Cure and getting high.” Hester adds. “Man, college is gonna be like that everyday.” 

"Are you scared?" Dot asks.

"Maybe." Hester laughs, and she doesn't need to ask to know that Dot's talking about college, and the idea of growing up. She means _ofcoursenot,collegemeansnothingtome._

"Me neither." Dot huffs, meaning _yes,yesiam._

“I think I want to cut my hair.” Anadil says, randomly. 

Dot tugs on a strand of her long white hair. “Your mom would never let you.” 

“Probably not, but we’re leaving this year and if she thinks she can give me adult responsibilities and still treat me like a child, she’s mistaken.” Anadil says, sounding different. 

All her friends are so grown up. 

“Short like Agatha? Or short like Hester?” Dot asks. 

Anadil just shrugs. “Something more sophisticated than those two. They just let it go wild and curly.” 

“Hey, I remember that time in fifth when you dyed in neon green.” Hester says. 

Anadil covers her face with her sleeves. “Noooo I mentally blocked that outtt.”

Hester snickers and opens up her phone, rolling down her gallery. 

“See,” Hester shoves her phone towards them. It’s a low quality picture of Anadil in middle school, talking to someone off screen. Her face is fuller, and she looks happier. “This was such a good era.” 

“Oh God,” Anadil says. 

Dot delicately steals the phone away, while they’re occupied with themselves. 

She looks through Hester’s camera roll. It extends to nearly 4th grade. There’s a lot of pictures of Anadil, but there are just as many with Dot in them. Dot’s heart lurches at a younger and happier Hester smiling brashly at her front facing camera. They all look so much happier. 

She starts to flip through the pictures. Dot’s old Avatar phase makes itself realized again, as well as Hesters uneven extensions and Anadils witch hat. Anadil’s first batch of rats are stars of their own 50 photo album. Dot starts to smile. They were so happy and carefree back then. Surely they could go back to that? 

Dot gets to watch herself grow through Hester’s eyes. Hester takes a lot more pictures then Dot’s ever been led to think. There’s pictures of Dot riding her bike, falling asleep during class, Anadil eating yogurt on a weight machine, the two of them watching vines on Dot’s phone with wide eyes, Agatha is laughing in the background. Hester is T posing in the parking lot of the supermarket. Anadil is ordering at Kentucky Taco Kings. Dot’s laughing over Hester in the front seat of her first car. Anadil is holding a permanent marker to Hester’s nose. They’re all really strange and really bizarre. Dot thinks it’s so _them_. The old them. 

By the time she’s hit the end of junior year, Dot ends up disappearing from the pictures. That’s when they started dating. More and more Anadil. Anadil, Anadil, AnadilDotAgatha, Anadil, Anadil, Anadil, HesterAnadil, HesterAnadilDot, HesterDot, Anadil, HesterAnadil. It just goes on and on, until Dot hits the jackpot of AnadilAnadilAnadilAnadil and Only Anadil. Dot’s finger flicks through the pictures faster. Is she even alive to them? Where is he? Whereishe? WhereisshewhereisshewhyisthereonlyAnadilandHesterhere?

Dot looks away at the two, and they’re laughing over a joke that she couldn’t possibly understand, not now. 

How come all of her friends have to be in love? And why can’t she be?

Anadil catches her look and immediately stops. “Dot?” 

Dot blinks. “Hm?” She reflexively smiles. It never fools them though, and the mood immediately shifts to something sharper. 

“Ok. We have to talk. Dot, what’s wrong with you?” Hester demands. 

“I- nothing.” Dot weakly says. 

“Bullshit. You’ve been weird and quieter all night.” Dot cringes at the cursing. Hester tries not to notice. 

“I’m sorry Hester, I just… I feel weird tonight.” Dot says, rubbing the back of her neck. She knows exactly what's bugging her, she’s just ashamed to admit of the jealousy and fear rooted inside of her. 

“Should we- do you want to talk about it?” Hester offers, obviously trying to be more gentle with her. Anadil is back to being more quiet. She looks at the two of them, and tries to compare them to the girls she met in elementary school.

Dot shakes her head so hard she feels dizzy. “No, I'm sorry about ruining the mood.” 

“There wasn’t really a mood, it’s been weird all night.” Anadil replies. 

“Just come out with it, and we’ll fix it.” Hester says. 

“Just, looking back at the pictures makes me think back to who we used to be.” Dot rushes out. “I wish we could go back to that. Everyone’s growing up and changing and dating and I feel so behind on it.” 

There’s a silence so tight in the air Dot nearly feels choked. She hangs her head, letting her bangs cloud the vision of the three of them in the yellow kitchen, Anadil and Hester’s reactions to what she said. 

“Oh Dot,” Anadil says, softly. “I’m so sorry you feel that way.” 

Dot feels hot and she snaps up. “Yeah, well me too!” 

“Whoa, whoa,” Hester holds out her hands like Dot’s a feral circus lion. “I hear you Dot. When I woke up this morning, I just felt sadder, not older.” 

“Jeez,” Dot drops her head. “Stupid, stupid, stupid. I shouldn’t have said anything. That wasn’t my intention.”

“Hey, stop it,” Anadil lifts Dot’s face up, cradling her face with pale fingers. “Don’t call yourself stupid.”

“I’m not. I’m saying how stupid all of this is.”

“Well, I’m glad one of us finally said something.” Anadil says, jumping off the counter and leaning against the one facing Dot. They make a triangle, with Dot at the peak. 

“Don’t you guys ever miss being young?” Dot presses. “And not thinking about college or cars or leaving town?” 

Hester nods. “Well yeah, of course. But I would miss everything I have now, y’know?” 

Dot doesn’t know. 

“Well think of it this way. You gotta make the best of what you have, because some day, you’ll miss being this old too.” Anadil adds. 

Dot doesn’t know what to make of that either. It makes sense, but Dot’s nostalgia addled brain still misses when she was equally as important to them as they were to her. 

She starts to cry, embarrassingly enough. 

Their reactions are immediate. “Oh, _Dot.”_ Anadil murmurs, coming to her side and hugging her arm. 

Hester awkwardly pats her shoulder and hands her a paper towel. 

“I don’t want you guys to leave,” Dot sobs, crinkling it in her hand. “I want us to be how we used to be. I love you both so, _so_ much and I wish we were equal.” 

Anadil has no response, she just holds on tight and Hester looks up at the ceiling, never that great at expressing feelings anyways. 

“I think you forget how important you are to us.” Anadil tells her. “Your love is just as important and valid as me and Hesters.” 

Dot just cries, because it’s everything she’s _ever_ wanted to hear. 

“Yeah, Dot, if you cry, we cry. _Shit_ , look, I’m tearing up.” Hester says, huffing out a laugh. Her eyes are moist, and it’s so in character of Hester to call that crying that Dot wetly laughs. 

Hester pulls her into a hug, and Dot hesitantly hugs her back. Barely, Dot can see Anadil wiping her eyes with her hoodie sleeve. She’s crying- Dot doesn’t understand why. Is Anadil crying over her? Over Hester? Anadil doesn’t cry, ever since the seventh when she fell on Hester's skateboard on the dark gravel and her knee was so bad and Dot had to keep ranting about plotholes in Glee so that Anadil would go back to normal, maybe even laugh as they drove to the hospital. 

“Come here,” Dot mumbles, and Anadil obliges. 

Dot finds the reciprocation as the best part. These two must really love her, they hug her so tightly that Dot might pass out. It’s been so long, but the hug feels the same, they all feel the same, three humans, three girls, with brokenness and hurt and love and resentment and hope, and it’s impossible to see where she ends and they begin. 

Dot feels complete again, her inside surging with the familiar love she used to live for and she thinks, maybe, it wouldn’t be so bad if she stuck around a bit before moving onto what’s next. The stirrings of a feeling ong forgotten make home within them again. 


	16. sgetober day thirty: trial by tale

_You have to be okay._

I know we fought before, and I know I said some things before we went in, but you have to know I didn’t mean jackshit, and you have to be ok. I really need you to be. We’re both so separate, and I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you, something I could’ve prevented. 

I need you to be okay. You’re strong, even though others don’t think it of you. I know you are. There's a defiance in your eyes, a eagerness to fight in you, and... and you have to be okay. 

I can’t even call out to you in the hostile environment, and shit, someones above me in the trees, and it occurs to me that I might be someone someone else is afraid of. 

I slash my weapon, the cloth drops, and another name is eliminated. Yours is still there. W _hereareyouwhereareyouwhereareyouwhereareyou?_

I’m starting to panic now. The mantra in my head is rattling me, and I think the only thing keeping me from passing out is your name. _You have to be okay._

And there’s a body, in the clearing. 

The thought that it could be trap doesn’t cross my mind as a race to it. _You have to be okay. Please, be okay._

And you’re not there. It’s not you, thankfully. But no one should ever feel that much pain, Ever, or Never. I pull the handkerchief out for them. 

None of us were born with intent to hurt. 

And it hits me that we’re all just scared children in this forest.

You have to be okay. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i tried to write this so it could be from anyones pov, tedros, sophie, hort, chaddick, hester, it's up to you :D


	17. sgetober day thirty one: one true king

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which agatha is entraced by a stranger in a lion mask

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> based off these prompts! https://love-me-a-good-prompt.tumblr.com/post/188621541501/halloween-ideas
> 
> i hit a bit of a block with this one, and and i got super excited about a prompt, so i tried to tie it in! obviously a different au

Agatha finds herself rather dismayed with the most anticipated ball of the year.

The music is rather dreary, and she can’t find her sister anywhere, and so she stands with her back to the wall, hoping her black feather mask and off put expression will keep her isolated. 

But the asshole in the lions mask keeps making eye contact with her, all while smiling obnoxiously and dancing through the throngs of people in the crowd. Agatha just snorts and laughs, but starts to shrink away when she notices he’s making his way towards her. 

“Evenin’ milady.” He greets, squeezing in between a dancing pair of bluebirds. “How does this fine evening find you?” 

“Do I know you?” Agatha asks bluntly, observing him. His clothes are richer, with these fancy gold buttons that shine ridiculously well under the white chandelier. The gold is lining his suit, and his mask looks like it’s made out of it. Generally, he’s very hard to focus on. 

He tilts his head. “You mean, you don’t recognize me?” 

“What, are you some big-shot King?” Agatha asks, crossing her arms. 

He stiffens, and looks away. “Maybe.” 

Agatha nods, clasping her hands. “As expected.” 

He crosses his arms as well and looks Agatha up and down. “Well then, what are you, some type of witch?” 

Agatha sort of likes his electric eyes under the gold mask. He seems familiar. “Duh.” She points to her pointed hat that made her unpopular with the rest of the stuffy royals. “The rumor is that I’ll put a curse on you if you talk to me.” 

He laughs. “Anything fun here is scandalous. I wish I was a villager. They get to have All Hallows Eve feast, with games, and all sorts of treats.” he says wistfully. 

“They are fun,” Agatha says, remembering her ninth year, with her front missing tooth and her mother holding her hand in the hay maze. Straw in her hair from digging for a pumpkin. It was a good day. They had two entire apple pies. Agatha can still taste and smell them when she thinks of that day, of her mother. 

He actually claps at that, even though Agatha can’t hear it over the sweltering music. “You’ve been? Ah, you’re so lucky! I haven’t left the castle in ages.” 

“Why not?” Agatha asks, curiosity piqued. 

“They have been assassins after my father's death, all vying from the throne.” He informs her solemnly. “My steward used to tell me to go outside is death, or something…” he trails off, gloved hands scratching his chin. “Though of course, she could’ve been trying to gain more control over me.” 

“It’s staying inside that will finish you off.” Agatha retorts, heading to the punch bowl. 

He follows her, still talking. “That could be it too.” 

“Why are you following me?” Agatha asks, pouring a pink substance into an adorably small glass. 

“I don’t know. I’m just trying to avoid my brothers. Plus, I’ve tried that eye contact dance thing with like, four girls, and you’re the only one who laughed! What’s up with that?” he blabbers, leaning against a pillar. 

“It was a pity laugh.” Agatha informs him. The crowd cheers and she winces. “Ugh. This is a headache. I’m taking the carriage home.”. 

“No, don’t leave!” The boy pouts. “I can show you somewhere quieter!”

“Uh, no way, _Romeo-_ ” Agatha begins to protest. 

“Ok, sorry, not like that. But you’re the most fascinating person I’ve met in _forever_.” he groans. “If you leave, I’ll die of boredom.” 

He seems really high strung. Agatha surveys him, taking a drink. “You really gotta get out more.” 

“We can go to the garden. I was here once for a birthday and it was lovely.” He promises, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Until my brothers crashed it, and they- well, that’s another story. But you don’t have anything better to do!” 

“Just because you said that, I’m going to go find my sister.” Agatha responds, turning away with a grin and adjusting her mask. A woman sends her an odd look and scoots away from her. 

“Oh come on!” 

“I don’t even know your name,” Agatha baits. 

“King Teddy, at your service.” He pretends to bow, floppy curls falling over his mask. 

“A King... named Teddy. Boy, your kingdom must be fun.” Agatha says with a grin. “Fine, lead the way, _Teddy_.” 

Teddy sticks his tongue out. “What's your name then?” 

Agatha rather likes the mystique she’s received under the mask and stays loudly silent, waving her glass. 

“Fine then, you just keep your secrets.” Teddy huffs. 

They exit out the tall propped open doors and walk down the stairs to the endless hedges and fountains. There's a couple dancing under the shine of the moon, it feels very private and intimate to Agatha, and apparently Teddy too. 

“C’mon, their galley is magnificent!” Teddy says, pulling her towards an open pillared building that’s connected to the castle. 

Agatha yanks her hand away but follows him anyways, rucking up her dress layers so she can run after him. 

He’s like a child, honestly. He has this enthusiasm and… maybe not innocence, but a keenness to him that makes him endearing and somewhat off putting. 

“This is the old King and Queen,” Teddy says, panting a bit as he reaches over his knees. They’re smiling haughtily at what Agatha guesses to be the unfortunate painter. “And this is their daughter, the Queen.” he says, referring to a proud woman with an amazing sweep of dark hair. “We went to the same boarding school.” 

“Wow.” Agatha says, putting her now empty cup down on the cold marble ground. “She looks way more mature than you.” 

Teddy tilts his head. “How old do you think I am?” 

“I don’t know. Sixteen?” 

Teddy just snickers. “Wow. You can not read people.” 

“What? How old are you then?” Agatha demands. 

He just mimics her tight smile from before. 

“Fine then.” Agatha huffs with a grin. “Keep your secrets.” 

Tedros continues down the line, like a gossipy tour guide, until he reaches the alliances and stiffens at a painting. 

“Oh, is this you?” Agatha asks, half teasing, looking up at a painting of an esteemed teenager, looking at the painter with thinly veiled boredom. 

“Do I look like a ginger? No, that’s my half brother.” Teddy says, sneering at the portrait. “I think this is the only picture we sent here.” 

“You really don’t get along with them, do you?” Agatha asks. 

He just scowls. “You have no idea.” 

“I don’t get along great with my sister either,” Agatha admits. “But after her mother died we’ve become closer.”

“After my father died, it was the opposite for us.” Teddy explains. “I could hardly sleep with them around, prowling like hyenas. Eventually it became easier to pretend they didn’t exist. I moved to the west wing.” 

“What do they do?” 

“Oh, they take over meetings, isolate me, hire their insane steward to keep me inside.” He lists off. “I’m not much of a king ever since they showed up. I had to sneak out tonight. I just knew I’d go crazy staying inside.” 

“Maybe you already are.” Agatha teases. 

“Ha, ha.” He says sarcastically. 

“I can’t imagine you as king.” Agatha says honestly. “You’re so… happy. I don’t know.” 

“All kings have to be dramatic bastards?” Teddy asks, adjusting his gold mask. 

“Sort of, yeah.” 

“The philosophers say that a great king begins with a great boy, so that could be it.” Teddy says, hoisting himself up on a gold beam that guards the paintings. 

A snort escapes from Agatha, and she’s laughing before she can stop herself. He flashes her a cocky grin. 

It’s easy to tease him, and forget herself in his company, and her shoulders are loose and she can’t remember the last time she laughed this much. Teddy is odd and childish at times, but he’s also more real and animated then the dozens of diginites she’s come across. She really does like him, and finds herself dreading the carriages emerging. 

“Where can I find you?” he asks randomly, as they’re balancing on top of the fountain. 

“Agatha of The Woods.” She says. His head pops around the cherub statue they’re dancing around.   
  


“Agatha? Your name?” he asks. 

She smacks her forehead. “I forgot about that.” 

“It’s okay, I like it! It suits you. I’ll tell you mine. I’m eighteen.” He says with a fake whisper that carries over. 

“Ha! I’m older than you!” Agatha says, rounding the circle. They meet, eye to eye. 

“Yeah, you’re a real old woman.” Teddy says. They laugh, and Teddy rubs the back of his neck, a fidget Agatha has begun to notice. He sees her curious expression. “Sorry, I get nervous around pretty girls.” He smiles cheekily. 

Agatha blinks, and takes a minute to comprehend. “I- oh you’re _sooo_ smooth.” She give him a light push and turns away, ears and face burning. “You don’t even know what I look like!” 

“Geez Agatha, you think I’m like the people in there? I don’t need to.” Teddy says, walking all the way around the fountain so that they stand directly in front of the cherubs, heart arrows pointed at them. “I really like your smile. And the way you talk, and how you laugh, and I _really_ want to see you again.”

“I want to see you again too.” Agatha confesses. She can hear the people spilling outside, and soon she’ll hear her name being called. 

“I live in the castle by the Forest,” she tells him quickly, in a rush. “With my sister, Queen Sophie. Maybe you can stop by someday, for ‘politics’.” 

He smiles beautifully, albeit a bit mournfully. Agatha can faintly hear her name being heard. “I’ll see you soon then, Witch of the Woods.” he playfully pokes the high brim of her hat, and leans in quick to brush his lips against her cheek.

He’s absolutely freezing, and so warm at the same time. 

He jumps down from the fountain and runs towards the carriages, and Agatha takes a minute to step down from the fountain, and dazedly finds her sister, tripping over herself, and completely okay with it. 

  
  
  


“So, who was he?” Sophie asks the next morning, with a drowsy smile. 

“I don’t know who you’re referring to.” Agatha says stiffly, sitting across from her. 

“Who’s got your feet tangled up and head in the clouds?” Sophie asks. “I was looking for you, all night!”

“Ok, fine, there was a guy. But I’m not in love with him or anything!” Agatha protests, cupping her jaw in her hand. 

“Who was he? I swear Hort was trying every trick in the book, I wouldn’t be surprised if he tried to pick you up.” 

Agatha wrinkles his nose. “ _Ew_. No. Did you see the guy in the lion mask?” 

Sophie curls a strand of hair thoughtfully. “No, I don’t think I did.” 

“Really? He was such a showoff.” Agatha says, grinning into her palm. 

“Agatha, please tell me you’re not planning on running off with this weirdo I can’t even keep tabs on?” Sophie asks, setting her mug down. 

“He said he was a king,” Agatha says, racking his brain. “I don’t know if he really was, to be honest… but he had blonde hair, he looked like he was from the East.” she rubs her head. “Blue eyes?” 

“That does narrow it down, but I was on the balcony the whole time, and I didn’t see anyone as a lion. Lots of birds, falcons, snakes, one particular squirrel.” 

She snaps her fingers. “Freckles! Weird, because people from the East usually don’t have freckles, right?”she offers to her sister's expression, which is rapidly changing. 

“Agatha, was his hair... curly?”

Agatha nods eagerly.

“You were with Callis when we got the painting.” Sophie mutters, now looking genuinely stressed. She rubs her forehead. Agatha furrows her brow. 

“What are you talking about?” 

Sophie looks grim. “Come on, let’s go to the galley.”

The painting is beautiful. It may be due to the subject of the painting, or the creative, purposeful strokes that capture the curly hair, electric eyes, the elegant curve of his nose, the constellations of stars and a retained smile, perking up in the edges. It doesn’t matter. It’s him. 

“Is this him?” Sophie asks, nervous. 

Agatha blinks, and smiles largely. “Yes. Yes! That’s him! What’s his name? What kingdom does he live in?” 

“Read the panel.” Sophie tells her, looking away. The candlelight seems to grow dimmer. 

Agatha’s brow furrows. “What’s wrong?” Agatha asks, wiping away dust with her sleeve. Sophie doesn’t respond. The silence is unsettling. And so is the plaque. 

_Tedros Urther Leodegrance Pendragon_

_Eighteen orbits_

_“Good Kings are like stars -- they rise and set, they have the worship of the world, but no repose.”_

_May The One True King Rest In Repose._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy halloween to all! these were great to do, thank you for your support! as for whats next, i don't know! i've hit a roadbump with tsslf, i haven't been satisfied with any of my drafts. a tagatha wedding fic that takes place after tlea is in the making, as well as a princess mononoke au i'm very excited for! guess we'll see what happens from here

**Author's Note:**

> my sge sideblog is @castorfordean, that's where i make memes and doodle stuff, go check it out! i'm only writing drabbles for specific days, but you can request a specific day and theme on there.


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